


Trouble Comes to Those Who Hang With Stiles

by courtinator



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Isaac Lahey, BAMF Stiles, Blood, Blood and Injury, Evil Original Characters, Gen, Gore, Heavy Angst, Helpful Alan Deaton, Hurt Isaac Lahey, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Isaac Lahey Deserves Nice Things, Isaac Lahey Feels, Isaac Lahey Needs a Hug, Isaac Lahey is a Little Shit, Kidnapping, Mentioned Allison Argent, Mentioned Kate Argent, Mentioned Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Protective Isaac Lahey, Torture, Werewolf Hunters, Werewolf Isaac Lahey, Whump, mentioned Derek Hale - Freeform, some mentioned characters appear in final chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28923585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtinator/pseuds/courtinator
Summary: When Isaac and Stiles are begrudgingly paired up to investigate something that could help in their fight against the Alpha pack, they run into trouble neither of them were expecting.
Relationships: Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 41
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a little after Derek kicks Isaac out of the loft in season 3, but he doesn't go to Scott's house.

“Can’t you just use your werewolf mojo to bust down the door?” Stiles groaned impatiently, poking a finger into Isaac’s back. Isaac glared down at the shorter boy, again cursing his decision to answer his phone. He’d just been sitting alone, minding his own business while trying to finish up his homework before all the light died out, when he got a text from Scott, begging him to help Stiles in whatever hairbrained scheme he had concocted this time. Scott was out of town with his mom, something about a great aunt breaking a hip and some distant cousins wanting the nurse’s opinion on what they should do. Ms. McCall was hesitant to leave Scott in town alone, even at his quiet proclamations that he would be just fine, and swept him away to drive the 200 miles to their extended family. So now, out of loyalty to Scott, Isaac was breaking into an abandoned building with Stiles, who was convinced there was something inside that would help them with their Alpha pack situation.

If Isaac was being honest with himself, he was still pretty rattled after his encounter with the pack. Not that all of his memories were intact about what happened, even after the sessions with Peter and the ice bath, but whereas he didn’t know the specifics, he did remember how he felt. All consuming terror was an accurate description. Isaac had lived with fear all his life, so he was used to the feeling. Some of it had gone away with the bite, but it had been replaced with a new kind of unease. Instead of worrying about his father and all that came with him, he now had to deal with hunters and other, stronger werewolves, and who knows what else.

And it should’ve been easier, dealing with whatever came his way, now that he had a pack. Derek had made it sound so powerful and secure, the bond between werewolves. Isaac had thrown himself headfirst into it, doing whatever Derek asked of him, eager to please. Even when it was things he really didn’t want to do. He did it all anyways, desperate to solidify his place with his Alpha. Had he wanted to kill Lydia when they thought she was the Kanima? Not at all. But he would’ve done it if Derek told him to, and wasn’t that thought disquieting? For him to have such a loyalty to someone so quickly that he would go against everything he knew was right. And even with all that effort he put in, look at him now.

It had only been a week since Derek unceremoniously kicked him out of his loft, but the mostly sleepless nights made it seem even longer. He had nowhere to go, so ended up wandering back to the abandoned train depot they had stayed in while Derek was building his pack. Isaac sat awake most nights in the busted up train where they had had their first and only group turn under the full moon, going over every moment he could think of in his head, wondering where he’d gone wrong. 

He knew he’d been spending a little more time with Scott, agreeing with his plans a bit more than he had Derek’s. He didn’t mean to look like he was switching allegiances, but sometimes the younger wolf made better choices. And Derek was always teaming up with Scott, when the need arose. Maybe it wasn’t Isaac’s place to do so on his own, but he would’ve stopped if Derek told him to. Isaac wasn’t even given a chance to correct his behavior, if that was the reason.

Or maybe his father had been right all along. There was hardly a day that went by in that house where his father didn’t remind him how useless he was. How he was a mistake, a burden, a waste of a son. Deep down, Isaac knew his father was wrong. It was just his way of coping with the loss of his wife and son. But now that he’d been dumped on his ass by another authority figure, punctuated by a glass again no less, doubts were starting to creep back in. Why was it so easy for him to be discarded if he truly had any worth? He hadn’t been a good son and he wasn’t really a good wolf. And given the way Stiles was looking at him, he wasn’t a good friend either.

Not that he would consider Stiles his friend. And he was sure the feeling was mutual. Isaac hadn’t really had friends since his mom died, besides his brother. He went from being the cute little boy with golden curls, to the sullen boy who tried to go through life without being noticed. And everyone around him was happy enough to help him along in his goal. No one batted an eye at the little boy with the bruised face, eating lunch alone every day. By the time he made it to middle school, he barely spoke at all. 

When he got to high school and his home life was even worse now that his brother was gone and unable to at least shift some of his father’s attention away from him, Isaac almost completely shut down. He’d only joined the lacrosse team at his father’s suggestion, not outright saying it would help explain away his constant bruising, but it hadn’t needed to be spoken. Isaac had jumped at the chance to be out of the house even longer than normal, added to his job at the cemetery. He didn’t particularly enjoy the sport, but it helped get some of his frustrations out, since he couldn’t with his father.

It still wasn’t enough, since he spent more nights in the freezer than out, but at least there were a few more people to notice if he went missing, on those rare occasions his dad forgot to let him out for days on end. He tried to believe the few times it happened were a mistake, instead of his father doing it on purpose to be extra cruel. Although there was the time Isaac had been stuck in there for three full days, the only air coming through a tiny plug in the bottom that Isaac had found one day and painstakingly picked a hole into. He hadn’t been able to regain control of himself during one of his panics and soiled himself, stuck in his waste for a full day before his father let him out again. His father had screamed at him about the mess he made, what a disgrace he was, all the normal stuff, and made him clean it up right then. As his dad left him to go back upstairs, Isaac caught the hint of a smirk, uncharacteristic glee in the eyes of the man. So Isaac swore he’d never let this happen again, always picking at his dinner in case one of these marathon freezer sessions were in his future. He let breakfast be his largest meal of the day, giving himself the most time to digest and get rid of his food, just in case.

“Earth to Isaac,” Stiles grumbled, snapping his fingers in front of his face. Isaac jolted a bit, clenching his fists to keep his claws from bursting through. He didn’t need to wolf out right now.

“Don’t do that,” Isaac growled, only letting a tiny pinch of wolf leak into his voice. Stiles was probably his least favorite member of this ragtag group and his patience was almost nonexistent after being guilted into being his protector/escort. They had gotten off on the wrong foot from the very beginning and never found balance since. From Isaac being slightly homicidal and pretty much a dick, to Stiles cutting down everything he said and dismissing him as unworthy of his time. Yeah, they had worked together when they needed to, but they did so begrudgingly. If there had been any other options, they would’ve jumped at them.

The only one in the group Isaac could really consider anything close to a friend was Scott. Isaac had a deep respect for the teen since he’d gotten to know him and Scott seemed to at least tolerate his presence at this point. He wasn’t sure if that equalled friendship, but he’d take what he could get. Boyd and Erica were kind of his friends, in that forced together, pseudo sibling sort of way. Boyd was a quiet giant and even more closed off than Isaac, if that was possible. Erica had been his sort of partner in crime for a while at the beginning, until they mellowed out a bit and she naturally gravitated toward Boyd. She had an underlying sweetness about her, most likely brought on by her years as an outcast, and he could picture her really coming into her own with her newfound power. But it was too late for that now. 

Allison was complicated, after their little bursts of fighting and working together. He couldn’t really hold the stabbing against her, since he’d been planning on killing her best friend earlier. But he knew he didn’t trust her. That arrow in his chest meant for Scott was enough to keep him wary of her for the time being. He knew it was forgotten for Scott, but for her to aim an arrow at the chest of someone she had bonded so fully with, to switch allegiances like that, continued to give him pause around her. Werewolves were tougher than most, but if Scott had moved just so, the arrow could’ve hit him straight in the heart.

So now he was stuck here, in this weird limbo of being in a pack, but not having a pack. Backing up a human who, while annoying, was still risking his life to save his friends. To fight a battle that wasn’t really his. Isaac gripped the handle of the door, snapping it off and tossing it to the side with a soft clatter. If the Alpha pack happened to be here, they would’ve heard them already, so no need to be too quiet.

“What are we here for anyway?” Isaac asked, peering cautiously through the now slightly opened door. Scott hadn’t given him many details, probably either worried Isaac would refuse the request or not wanting his mom to have anything to tell the sheriff. And Stiles had been uncharacteristically quiet during the ride over. 

“My dad’s been getting a lot of calls about this place. Random people coming in and out,” Stiles answered, trying to peek around Isaac to see inside too.

“So you just let me put my fingerprints on a place the police are investigating?” Isaac hissed, bumping the other boy with his elbow.

“Not like you haven’t been in jail before,” Stiles muttered, rubbing at his ribs exaggeratedly. Well, that one stung a bit. Being stuck in a cell on the eve of his first full moon hadn’t been the best experience. Topped only by being arrested in the first place. It was a weird reaction you got from people when they thought you murdered your abusive father. A mix of the normal revulsion from the idea of a son doing something so heinous, to a pitying understanding at why you did it. And Isaac was stuck there, battling the emotions brought on by the moon and the warring feelings in his heart, about whether or not to mourn his tormentor. On one hand, he couldn’t not feel something for the man who brought him into this world. It hadn’t always been bad. But then the bad was terrible and the relief at never being put through that constant agony again was breathtaking.

Isaac blew out a calming breath, pushing his way into the building. It wasn’t very run down or dirty, as far as abandoned buildings went. There were some papers scattered about and old furniture, but nothing very interesting. The building was one giant, open room, with what looked like an office sitting against one wall a little ways down and a hallway on the other side. There was another door across from where they came in, probably another exit. He tried to hone into his wolf senses, sniffing for signs of people. He still wasn’t particularly good at that skill, but you didn’t get better unless you practiced. Isaac smelled the faint aroma of people who had long ago come and gone, but no signs of any werewolves.

“What makes you think this place is connected to the Alphas?” Isaac asked, still sniffing the air for any signs of wolf. At the answering silence, he spun around, staring dumbly at the last spot he’d seen Stiles. The boy was gone. “Stiles!” How had he slipped away, unnoticed? Isaac had been too focused on his nose, he didn’t even think that Stiles wasn’t right by his side. If anything happened to the other teen, the pack would kill him.

Isaac relied on his nose again, sucking air through his nostrils desperately, trying to follow where Stiles had gone. He had one job to do and less than a minute after they entered the building, he was failing. His own distress odors were seeping out of him, masking the dissipating whisps left from Stiles. He needed to calm down before he made things worse.

“Stiles!” Isaac hissed, spinning around to look for any type of clue. A dirty building would’ve come in handy now, with the possibility of footprints for him to follow. But there was nothing. A sudden clatter sounded from the small office, his hyper-aware senses making it sound like a bang right next to his face. He raced toward the location, abandoning any ideas of self preservation. If he hesitated, it could be too late.

Isaac slammed through the closed door, not taking the time to try the knob. A startled Stiles shrieked in surprise, dropping the papers he was holding so they glided to the floor. A perfectly fine Stiles.

“What the hell!” Stiles gasped, grasping at his chest in shock. Isaac whirled around, closing his eyes until he could feel them changing from unearthly yellow, back to mellow blue. Stiles was muttering behind him about overzealous wolves scaring him half to death, picking up his fallen papers. When Isaac felt the wolf side of him back under control, he turned again to face the other teen.

“What the hell were you thinking? I thought you-” Isaac cut himself off, dragging a hand across his mouth.

“Oh relax,” Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Nothing happened.”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous the Alpha pack is?” Isaac whisper-shouted, his hands starting to tremble at his sides. He needed to pull himself together.

“I’ve gotten myself out of stickier situations. Besides, I doubt you’d care if anything happened to me,” Stiles snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. Isaac reared back as if he’d been struck. Is that what Stiles really thought of him? Did they all think that?

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Isaac ground out, clenching and unclenching his hands as he felt the claws aching to burst free.

“Not like either of us want to be here together. You were literally my last choice,” Stiles laughed, shaking his head and going back to flipping through papers. Isaac bit his lip and looked away. You’d think hearing that kind of stuff all your life would make it easier to digest, but it was still a sucker punch to the gut every time. Maybe being an Omega wasn’t the terrible thing everyone made it out to be. No one to answer to, no one to worry about. That didn’t sound so bad to Isaac right about now.

“Be that as it may, I am the one here with you and I promised Scott I’d have your back. So please, try not to run off again without telling me first,” Isaac sighed, running a weary hand down his face. He was so tired. He wanted to crawl back to his temporary home and forget the world existed for a few days.

Stiles didn’t agree or disagree, choosing to keep doing what he was doing. Isaac figured that was the best he would get from the other teen at this point, so he just kept his eyes on him the whole time. He still didn’t know what they were looking for, so why waste his time?

“Dude, all that staring is creepy. I thought you would’ve heard me leaving while you were doing your wolf thing. That’s kind of the whole deal, right? Heightened senses? I swear, Scott can hear me grinding my teeth in Chemistry from like 20 feet away. He even sent me information on getting a night guard for when I sleep so-”

“Shut up!” Isaac hissed, cutting off Stiles’ rambling monologue.

“You don’t have to be so rude. I was just saying-” Isaac cut off Stiles again, this time with a hand over his mouth.

“Shhhhh. I think I heard something,” Isaac whispered, his mouth next to the other boy’s ear. Stiles nodded as best he could in his grip, his eyes going a little wide in fear. Isaac was sure he had heard footsteps coming from outside of the room, but there was only silence now. Only the sounds of his and Stiles’ slightly elevated heartbeats filled his ears. Maybe he had just imagined it?

Isaac slowly started to uncurl his body from the protective stance he had taken around the vulnerable human, peeling his hand off his mouth. Stiles worked his jaw a little bit, preparing to throw out some sort of smart remark, when Isaac suddenly tackled him to the ground. A bullet slammed into the wall where they had been standing less than a second earlier. They stared at each other in open mouthed shock for a few moments before time caught up with them again. The Alpha pack wouldn’t be carrying guns. They didn’t need them.

“Hunters,” Isaac mumbled, looking back toward the door he’d come through. He caught the slightest hint of movement, before the form scurried out of view. Well, that way out was gone. Their best option was to exit the office through the second door and make a break for the other entrance they’d seen. They couldn’t afford to fight with only each other as backup.

Isaac lifted Stiles to his feet, keeping him on the side closest to the wall. He smashed through the door with his shoulder, using himself as a shield as they made a break for the exit. There was only open space along the way, so they had to hope these people weren’t good at their jobs. Isaac kept his pace even with the other boy’s, not willing to go with his full speed and leave him exposed. The bullets were whizzing by them, only missing due to sheer, dumb luck. They were so close to freedom when their luck ran out.

Stiles tripped over something, maybe even his own feet, and went down hard. Isaac skidded to a stop, his forward momentum carrying him a few yards from his downed companion. It would take no effort at all to keep going, go those last few feet to freedom, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t leave without Stiles.

“Go!” Stiles called, trying to pull himself to his feet. Did he really think he would listen? That Isaac would abandon him to the mercy of people with guns? Isaac stepped toward Stiles, freezing when the sound of a gun cocking filled his ears. A body dressed in black came out of the darkness, a gleaming silver pistol pointed directly at Stiles’ head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a woman’s voice said from somewhere to his left.

“You can still get out of here,” Stiles pleaded, staring into his eyes. “If they’re hunters, they have a code. They don’t just kill people.” Isaac stared back, knowing his chances of escape and survival were slowly fading away, but he still had no urge at all to leave. There was no way he would leave without Stiles. Isaac slowly raised his hands, signalling his surrender. Stiles gaped at him, panting a little in distress.

“Let him go,” Isaac demanded, searching out for the voice that he assumed was of the leader. “You don’t need him if you’ve got me.” Isaac tried to sound strong and confident, channeling the tone of his Alpha. If they let Stiles go, he could get help. Even if he didn’t get help in time, as long as he was safe, Isaac could count it as a win.

“But two is so much better than one,” the voice cooed. Sudden, unimaginable pain shot up Isaac’s back, sending him crashing to the ground. He heard Stiles cry out as his body shook with convulsions, the electrical current burning through his veins and leaving him disoriented. Isaac twitched as the charge worked its way out of his body, his brain screaming at him to do something. Get up, fight back, don’t let them get you down this easy! But his body wouldn’t work properly.

A svelte figure stepped out of the darkness, slinking up to kneel beside him. Isaac growled as she pushed his sweaty hair off his forehead. She grinned as she pulled a rod out from behind her back, electricity immediately crackling around it. Isaac could hear Stiles’ begging as she lowered it to his chest, the pain blinding him until he couldn’t hold on any longer. The last thing he heard before he passed out was her light giggle, bending down to whisper in his ear.

“Sweet dreams.”


	2. Chapter 2

Consciousness slammed into him out of nowhere, his breaths coming out in choking gasps. The tail end of a sharp buzz was shooting through his body, leaving him completely spent. Isaac’s chin rested down against his chest, the idea of lifting his head more exhausting than he could imagine. Nothing was worth the effort it would take to look at his surroundings. Even if there was someone standing in front of him with a sword, ready to bisect him at his middle. He was just too tired.

“Isaac,” Stiles said, in a breathy moan. Well, that would do it. Isaac snapped his head up, meeting the eyes of the boy he was trying to protect. Stiles was a few feet in front of him, strapped to a chair. He looked mostly intact, just a thin line of blood trickling down from an already clotted cut in his eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” Isaac asked, trying to search out any hidden injuries. Stiles snorted, but in a less annoyed, more fond way than Isaac was used to when it came to him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about their situation if Stiles felt the need to be nice to him.

“I’m fine,” Stiles answered, softening his voice for his next words. “I don’t think I can say the same for you.” Isaac followed Stiles eyes as they looked above him, noticing his position for the first time. He was hanging from his wrists, handcuffs secured to what looked like the bottom rung of a ladder. There were rivulets of blood flowing down his arms where the harsh metal was cutting into his delicate flesh, his weight pulling him down painfully. He tried to grab the rung, to give his wrists a reprieve, but the chains holding him were just too long.

Isaac gave up on that for now, moving his eyes lower to see what else was happening to him. There wasn’t much else to see, until he got down to his feet. They weren’t touching the ground, which he had already been able to tell, but there was something secured around his ankles. He couldn’t really get a good look at it, due to his jeans being in the way, but he could see there were wires connected to them, leading somewhere behind him. Isaac twisted to try to see where they led, but it only made his head pound from the effort.

“What is that?” Isaac mumbled, resting his head against one of his arms. He was pretty sure he already knew, thanks to his rude awakening, but he needed to be sure. Knowing the whole situation could help them in the long run.

“Oh, I think you know,” the woman from earlier said, stepping into the middle of the room. Isaac hadn’t even heard her approach. He was such a shitty wolf. Stiles was glaring daggers at her and it made Isaac smile a little. He may not be big and strong, but he had heart. But that heart had to get him into trouble sooner or later.

“What do you want? And who even are you?” Stiles snapped, struggling to get free of his bonds. He was strapped down tight though, duct tape wrapped around his arms from wrist to elbow and ankle to knee. There was even a good amount wrapped around his middle, securing him to the back of the chair. He wasn’t getting out of that without help.

“The who isn’t important right now. What I want is some information,” the woman said, walking around to where Isaac couldn’t see her. His anxiety ratcheted up, not being able to see what was coming. He kept his eyes on Stiles, watching for any change in his demeanor that could possibly give him a clue.

“Information about what?” Stiles ground out, tracking the woman’s circuit around the room.

“More like who,” the woman said, bumping into his side as she walked back to the middle of the room. Isaac started to sway from the force, wincing as the metal shifted further into his wrist. He couldn’t do anything to stop it, just waiting for the motion to end on its own. “We have some friends in common and I’d like to know where they are.” Isaac and Stiles’ eyes snapped back toward each other, twin looks of panic on their faces. The only people they really knew in common were part of their extended pack and people from school. Isaac was pretty sure the woman wasn’t referring to some random classmates.

“I think you’ve got the wrong guys. We only know each other,” Stiles quipped, earning himself a slap across the face.

“Hey!” Isaac shouted, swinging a bit from the force of his yell. Leave it to Stiles to have a smart mouth while they were defenseless and completely at the mercy of psychopaths. Isaac was strung up like a dead cow about to be carved and an angry torturer would help no one right now.

“That was your only warning,” the woman said calmly, inspecting her nails for any breaks.

“I didn’t even say anything bad, like how I think you’re a crazy bitch!” Stiles spat, smiling up at the woman in mock innocence. She returned his smile, unsheathing a small blade from her belt. Stiles paled immediately, his eyes locked on the knife. It wasn’t much bigger than a standard pocket knife, but it was much sharper. Isaac tried to shout out some sort of protest, but his voice was caught in his throat.

It was a weird sort of relief that flooded through him when she spun suddenly, sinking the blade into his side, all the way to the handle. Stiles shouted in surprise, a look of renewed panic on his face. This just got more real. Isaac glanced down at the object sticking out of his gut, the little piece of metal rising and falling with each of his shaky breaths. It didn’t seem to hurt, which was interesting and frightening, all at the same time.

“Boys never learn the first time, so instead of wasting time, I get right to the good stuff,” the woman laughed, running her index finger through the blood running down his shirt covered stomach. Isaac twitched a little at her touch, feeling the barest hint of a tickle. She walked over to Stiles, smearing her blood covered finger across his face. A feeling of revulsion flowed through Isaac at the sight of her marking Stiles with his blood.

“What the fuck?” Isaac breathed out, tipping his head back in weariness. All he needed to do was turn. Why couldn’t he turn?

“I’m gonna leave you boys alone for a few moments to absorb my last lesson,” the woman said, walking back over to stand in front of him. He gave her the most scathing look he could muster, trying not to feel disheartened when she had no reaction to it. He knew he was in no position to do anything, but she could at least have the decency to look a little scared. She reached up to pat his cheek patronizingly, twisting and pulling her knife back out. Okay, that he felt. He couldn’t hold back the sudden bark of pain, squeezing his eyes closed. He felt the tears pushing behind his lids as the woman walked away, not bothering to feel embarrassed by them. Isaac tried to focus on anything other than the fire burning in his belly. But there wasn’t really anything to distract him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Stiles gasped, sounding near tears himself. Isaac kept his eyes closed, swallowing thickly. “You just gotta turn okay. You turn and we can get out of here.”

“Can’t,” Isaac mumbled, jerking his head down toward his feet.

“Why not?”

“Electricity,” Isaac answered. He had known he felt off since he woke up, but he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it. Everything about this was wrong, but there was an underlying vibration in his veins that was his constant companion since he’d woken. When he had first woken up due to a jolt, he thought it had been a brief thing, but now he knew. Derek had explained the effects of different levels of electricity after he’d been bitten, another one of the lessons he tried to teach his Betas. He knew how certain voltages could affect a wolf, and so did the people who had them. As long as those cuffs stayed on his ankles, there would be no turning for him.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Stiles muttered, increasing his useless efforts to get free.

“Shit is right and you’re deep in it boys,” the woman agreed, gliding back into the room. She wasn’t alone this time, flanked by a giant of a man. Isaac was tall, even taller after being strung up above the ground like this, but this man was massive. He easily dwarfed Isaac by four inches, even in this position. “I’d like you to meet my friend.”

“Does your friend have a name?” Stiles asked, his words coming out shaky. The man just cracked his knuckles loudly, the sound reverberating around the space.

“Only the friends that know him intimately get to know his name. Would you like to get to know him?” the woman asked, smirking at Stiles’ audible gulp.

“Nope, I’m good,” Stiles mumbled, looking anywhere besides the eyes of the behemoth. Isaac had a feeling he’d be getting to know the man soon enough.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” the woman said in mock relief. She tipped her head toward the man and he walked to stand behind him. Isaac tensed, feeling the man’s presence way too close to him. He felt a whine building in the back of his throat, but tamped down on it. He couldn’t roll over and expose his soft underbelly so soon into this.

“Please, come on. We don’t know anything. We were just having fun, exploring old buildings. I promise we won’t say anything,” Stiles said, trying to reason with the woman. Isaac was impressed by his ability to stay calm in this situation. Isaac didn’t even trust his own voice right now.

“Why do you keep lying? Don’t you know how much it hurts my feelings?” she pouted, gesturing to the man. “I guess you need another lesson.” A crackling sound was all the warning he got before his body was stiff and frozen, all his muscles cramped and strained from the assault of the electricity. His teeth clamped down on his tongue, immediately filling his mouth with blood. But there was nothing he could do about it now, paralyzed in this world that only consisted of him and pain. It felt like it went on forever before the dial was switched back down, going again to the low setting that felt like heaven at this point. Isaac’s limbs were twitching with aftershocks, the blood in his mouth dribbling down his chin.

“Is he okay? Are you okay?” Stiles sobbed, rattling around in his seat. Isaac couldn’t force his body to move, to look up to show the frightened teen that he was okay. If you could call it that.

“M’kay,” Isaac mumbled, his voice barely carrying across the small space. He could just fall asleep, just for a few minutes. Maybe this was all a dream and he’d wake back up in the train depot, or even back in the loft, safe and sound. A bucket of ice water was splashed onto his face, making him jerk back to full consciousness. Isaac spluttered and coughed on the water that made its way into his mouth, trembling from a mixture of anger, pain, and cold. This sucked. At least when he was in the freezer, he was left alone.

“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” the woman suggested, as if they had any say in the matter. Stiles had his lips pursed, forcing himself to keep any smart remarks to himself, now that he knew Isaac would bear the brunt of the anger. “I’ve been looking for a couple guys for a while now. Need to get a little payback for what they did to a friend. Unfortunately, they seem to have scurried away like the little rats they are, hiding off in a hole somewhere. Now, I could find them, if I put in the effort, but imagine my surprise when a couple of their packmates just so happen to wander onto my turf. You’ve made my job so much easier!”

“I’m not in any pack. I’m just a human,” Stiles denied, flinching back when the woman pointed an angry finger at him.

“A human who sure knows an awful lot about werewolves. A human who’s chosen to go against their own kind and lie down with dogs. I should skin you alive for that kind of betrayal,” the woman sneered, gripping Stiles’ jaw so he couldn’t look away. “Choices have consequences.”

“But you choosing to torture someone is okay?” Stiles spat, trying to wriggle out of her grasp. She chuckled, moving around behind him to drape herself over his shoulders.

“Oh baby, you ain’t seen torture yet. But you will,” she laughed, signalling to the lurking giant. Isaac felt a hand crawl up his arm, gripping one of his fingers and snapping it with a vicious twist. Isaac moaned, feeling the pain shoot down his arm before it settled in his hand.

“Please stop!” Stiles begged.

“These are the rules,” the woman said, ignoring Stiles as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’m gonna ask you a question and if you don’t answer it, tall, pale, and canine over there will get a bone broken. Since I’m feeling nice today, we’ll start with fingers. But if you piss me off, we’ll move to some more significant areas of the body. Any questions?”


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles was babbling pleas by this point, trying to come up with anything to appeal to the woman’s humanity. Even if Isaac could find his voice right now, he knew it would be a waste of time. He had begged his father numerous times to stop hitting him, stop locking him up, please love him, but it never worked. If anything, it egged the man on to get worse. If Isaac couldn’t appeal to the ingrained love a father had for his son, he knew this woman wouldn’t be swayed.

“Oh, this is gonna be so easy. Look how quickly you’re breaking,” the woman giggled, petting Stiles lightly on the head. Isaac glared at her, used to the disgusting signs of a true sadist. She was probably enjoying herself enough that it wouldn’t really bother her if she ended up with two dead boys and no information. It would still be a win in her book.

And that’s all they were, weren’t they? Boys. Stiles a bit more than him now, but still not technically men. Boys that should be worried about school, and summer jobs, and asking someone to prom. Not fighting for their lives on a weekly basis. Not strung up in a warehouse with a knife wound and broken bones. And Isaac knew he signed up for this life when he chose to receive the bite, but he was desperate. Who could blame him for trying to escape a lifetime of abuse by any means necessary? But this was too much.

“You’re so scared, you poor thing. Look at what happens when you hang around these monsters,” the woman scolded lightly, massaging at Stiles’ shoulders. He looked like he was about to throw up and Isaac couldn’t blame him. The thought of the fake affection being forced on him was making his skin crawl.

“You’re the monster,” Stiles muttered, crying out when the woman grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up. Isaac flinched at his sound of pain. If that was his reaction at seeing Stiles in a little bit of peril, he could just imagine how Stiles felt looking at him. They might not be the best of friends, but seeing someone hurt while you were powerless to stop it was torture in and of itself.

“Wow, you really haven’t learned to watch your mouth,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes back up to the big man. “Teach him to watch his mouth.”

“No, wait! I’m sorry I’m sorry, please!” Stiles stuttered, guilt coloring his features. Isaac was going to have to pay for his mouth, again. He knew Stiles’ default was to babble, but he knew the boy could reign it in when necessary. It was very necessary right now. The giant man started walking a slow circle around him, as if contemplating where to hurt him next. Hello psychological torture, it’s been a while. After a couple minutes of this, Isaac was practically aching for the physical pain. Anything to get rid of the anticipation. He was torn between wanting to close his eyes to try to escape it, to being unable to, not willing to let himself be caught off guard. Stiles was still whispering broken pleas, never giving up on the humanity of people. But there was no hope here.

The man eventually settled again behind him, placing his baseball glove sized hands on Isaac’s shoulders. Isaac couldn’t suppress his whimper as the man steadily applied more pressure, weighing him down and pulling on his already ruined wrists. Isaac could feel his skin start to peel back, the handcuffs digging deeper into the veins and tendons. He sobbed when the man finally took his hands away, but the relief was short lived. The hand on his left shoulder was suddenly back, squeezing without much effort and snapping his collarbone. Isaac and Stiles shouted at the same time, Isaac’s vision going white.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. The panic he had been trying so hard to hold off was squeezing his lungs in a vice. He couldn’t do this. All of the air in his body was gone. There was no air left in this room. He couldn’t do this. The walls were closing in, leaving him locked away where he could never get out. He was going to let everyone down and Stiles was going to die and it would be all his fault and-

The cold water was actually helpful, pulling him out of his panic attack. But the renewed shaking due to the chill was agony on his shoulder. The pressure it was under to hold him up was excruciating, the bones scraping each other with every shallow breath he was taking. Isaac wanted to curl into a ball in the corner and weep, to hell with what other people thought of him. He had always been a little quick to show his emotions, the tears coming whether he wanted them to or not. But he had learned how to cry quietly, to hide it from anyone that might hear him. Right now, he felt like screaming and wailing.

“Let me give you boys a minute to collect yourselves. Maybe strategize to figure out which of you will do the right thing and give me what I want,” the woman said, striding toward the exit. She paused before she left, poking at the displaced lump of bone in Isaac’s shoulder. He gasped at the stinging pain, moaning through the revived waves of discomfort. He finally let the tears fall when he heard the door close behind her, the only sound left in the room being his quiet sniffles.

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault,” Stiles whispered, sniffling a little himself. Isaac just hummed in agreement. He wasn’t in any position to reassure anyone. “What do we do? We can’t tell them anything, but I can’t just watch you die.” Isaac wanted to tell him that yes, he could. His life was not worth endangering the safety of the entire pack. Of all of them, his death would be the easiest for the group to bounce back from. If he ever made it to senior year, his quote would probably just be the word “expendable.”

Isaac accepted that he was never destined for glory. He’d never even strived to be anything but okay. Anything had been better than dying alone, locked in a freezer in his basement to be forgotten forever. If he needed to sacrifice his life for the good of his pack, he’d do it without hesitation.

“S’okay,” Isaac mumbled, his voice cracking over the word. It was okay and Isaac wanted to proclaim it with strength and pride, but he just sounded defeated. He couldn’t muster up any more.

“It’s not! You can’t give up!” Stiles insisted, sounding angry. Isaac used up a bit of energy to crack open an eye to look at the other boy. “Fuck you! Are you really gonna quit? What happened to the tough guy who was always ready to fight?” Isaac let out a breathy chuckle that sounded more like a sob, closing his eye again. That guy wasn’t real and Stiles was screwed if he had counted on him.

“S’not me,” Isaac choked out, feeling the fatigue pulling him down.

“No, no, I’m sorry! I was trying to give you one of those pep talks like Coach does!” Stiles stammered, sounding immensely guilty.

“D’nt work,” Isaac chuckled, although he did feel a little bit of the tension leak out of his body.

“We have to do something. I can’t stand watching this anymore,” Stiles whispered, biting his lip in concentration.

“All you have to do is answer my question,” the woman said, breezing back into the room. “Which, might I add, you haven’t even given me a chance to ask yet.” She bumped into his side again as she passed, making him swing more aggressively.

“Fuck!” Isaac ground out, the pain giving him a sudden surge of energy. He growled at her through the pain, the wolf inside of him begging to be freed.

“Ooo looks like the dog’s got a little more of his bark back. Too bad he can’t bite,” she laughed, stepping forward to crowd into his space. It was kind of ridiculous, how she only came up to about the middle of his chest. But he was still screwed as long as he was strung up like he was.

“Let me down and we’ll see if I can bite,” Isaac seethed, giving her a lopsided smile. He stared into her eyes as best he could, showing that while he might die, he wasn’t going to be submissive while he did it. He was so distracted by his little battle of wills that he didn’t realize the huge man was behind him until after another one of his fingers snapped. The woman cackled at his grunt of pain, bopping him on the nose. Stiles was right. She was a bitch.

Isaac hadn’t killed anyone yet and he was hoping to keep it that way, no matter what he said to try to look tough in front of people. But he didn’t think he’d have any qualms killing this woman. It would be completely justifiable after all this, but would his eyes turn from Beta gold to killer blue? She was human, as far as he knew, but would she be considered innocent? He didn’t know if he could stand being branded with the eyes of a killer for the rest of his life. If people didn’t know his story, all they’d think was that he was a murderer. But he was getting ahead of himself, since most likely it was him who would end up dead after all this.

“I think I like you just how you are,” she purred, moving back to stand in between them. Isaac could feel the man behind him breathing down his neck. “I feel like it’s time to get down to business.” The man suddenly grabbed Isaac’s hand, breaking the rest of his fingers on his left hand in quick succession. Isaac couldn’t hold back his scream this time, partially from surprise, but mostly from pain. Stiles was shrieking some of the most colorful language he had ever heard, which was kind of like a balm on his frayed nerves. But it wasn’t enough to completely block the pain. The whole left side of his upper body felt like it was on fire, from the broken fingers, to the still bleeding wrist, all the way down to his throbbing collarbone. Isaac couldn’t remember a time he felt more terrible.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” the woman laughed, staring at Stiles in a little bit of disbelief. Stiles’ jaw snapped shut at those words, his mind probably going to the same place as Isaac’s. Was she just saying that because it was a common saying, or because she knew personal details about them? They already knew that Stiles was human and Isaac was a werewolf, and that they ran in the same pack, but what if she knew more? Isaac didn’t have anyone to worry about who wasn’t already pack, but Stiles did. Scott did. If she didn’t get the information she wanted from them, who would she go after next? They needed to survive this, even if it was just long enough to warn the others.


	4. Chapter 4

Isaac could feel his fingers starting to swell, but he kept trying to wiggle them around. Even though it hurt, he needed to try to keep the hand somewhat useful, in case they were able to get out of here. He imagined socking the woman straight in her jaw, no matter the damage it would cause him. He’d cut off his own leg and beat her with it if it got them out of here. 

“You know, I’m getting kind of annoyed with you two. I still haven’t even asked my question and we’ve already used up an entire hand. At the rate we’re going, I’m gonna run out of bones to break. Maybe I should switch to the little one?” the woman suggested, leering at Stiles. The scared boy audibly gulped, looking at Isaac with wide eyes. Any injuries the normal human got would take ages to heal compared to his. And even though he couldn’t access his wolf right now, he still had some of the mojo running through him. While these injuries hurt like hell, they would be absolutely debilitating for someone like Stiles.

“Bored with me already?” Isaac asked, scraping the bottom of his reserves for a little bit of the swagger he’d put on after he first got the bite. He had to keep the focus on himself. “Or are you afraid of the big, bad wolf?” The woman cocked her head at him, a sly smirk pulling at her lips.

“You may think you’re brave,” she started, stepping in front of him again, “but I could have you begging in seconds if I wanted to.” She unsheathed her knife again, specks of his blood still visible on the blade. He tried not to react to the sight of it, or from the fear of what she’d do with it. She rested it against his chest, running it down until it got to the top of his belt. Isaac held his breath, terrified at the thought of what she was about to do. She turned the blade, hooking it under the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up, slicing apart the fabric like it was nothing. The shirt fell open, exposing his chest and the stab wound from earlier. From the angle he was looking from, it didn’t seem too bad. The woman started walking her fingers across his stomach and he tried to shy away from her touch. This was veering into a form of abuse he hadn’t experienced before and he didn’t know if he’d be able to deal with it, on top of everything.

“Oh relax kid, you’re not my type. My friend was the one who preferred them young,” she chuckled, continuing the lazy path with her fingers.

“Kate,” Stiles moaned, shaking his head, “your friend was Kate.”

“Yep,” the woman said, swirling her finger around his belly button. Isaac tried his hardest to suppress his twitch at the slightly ticklish feeling. He’d heard the name Kate a few times from members of the group, but had never asked about the story behind her.

“Of course you were friends with that abusive bitch! You’re like a watered down, store brand, bargain basement version of her!” Stiles spat, a look of pure hate and disgust on his face. There was certainly history there. Isaac couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed that he was involved in a revenge plot for a person he’d never even met.

“Watch your fucking mouth!” the woman snapped, jamming her finger into Isaac’s stab wound. He threw his head back and cried out, the sudden pain startling the sound out of him. She twisted her finger, each movement punctuating her angry words. “Kate was a good person, doing what she had to do to protect the world from monsters! You’d understand that if you opened your eyes. We wouldn’t even have to exist if they didn’t!” She ripped her hand away and Isaac tipped his head forward, gagging at all the sensations he had just felt. Nothing was in his stomach to come up though, thanks to his train depot diet. The woman calmly wiped off her hand on the cleaner side of his shirt, walking back to stand in front of Stiles. He was panting angry breaths out of his nostrils, vibrating with rage.

“Since you know who my friend was, I think you can guess who I’m looking for, but I’ll say it just in case you’re as stupid as you look. Where are Peter and Derek Hale?” she asked. Isaac let out a low laugh. Of course it was about his emotionally repressed Alpha and his slightly deranged uncle. If she was just looking for Peter, Isaac might be tempted to give him up. There was no love lost between them, especially after the enjoyment he took jabbing his claws into the back of his neck to try to look into Isaac’s memories. But he couldn’t give up Derek, no matter how the man had treated him. That was his Alpha and he would be loyal until the end. If he suffered years of abuse from his own father and never spoke a word, he wasn’t going to snitch on Derek. And there was the slight issue in the fact that Isaac had no idea where Derek was. He hadn’t seen the man since he had been booted from the loft. If he wasn’t there, he had no idea where he’d be.

“We don’t know where they are,” Stiles insisted, looking down at the floor. Isaac couldn’t blame him for not wanting to look at him right now. They both knew that Isaac was going to be punished for any answers she didn’t like. Isaac wouldn’t mind one less witness to his torture. 

“Back to this again?” the woman asked with a sigh. She snapped her fingers and the ogre struck, sinking his fist into Isaac’s ribs. Isaac choked on his breath, his lungs seizing up from the shock of the assault. He couldn’t breathe. His lungs were spasming inside his chest, not expanding enough to let in any oxygen. It was like a sledgehammer, too much force focused on too small of an area. Those bones were definitely broken.

“Breathe man, you gotta breathe,” Stiles called out to him, barely breaking through the oxygen deprived fog that had taken over his senses. Easy for him to say, sitting safely on the other side of the room, mostly untouched. If Isaac had the ability to breathe, he’d be doing it right now. But it was impossible.

He was going to die from one punch. How pathetic. His inner voice was screaming at him and of course it sounded just like his dad. Telling him he was proving him right. Isaac had been born weak and he would die weak. Anyone who counted on him would be ruined. He was a burden to anyone who had the misfortune of being near him.

No, he was better than this. He was stronger than this. One punch wasn’t going to take him out. He was a werewolf. Isaac was something to be feared and respected. He forced himself to take in a breath, no matter how bad it hurt. Pain was just a thing. It didn’t matter. Isaac’s second breath came easier, and then the next even more so. The room slowly came back into focus.  
Stiles was staring at him, silent tears streaming down his face. They were both going to need therapy after this, if they made it out alive. Maybe Deaton knew someone they could talk to? Deaton knew everything.

“What a weak puppy you are,” the woman giggled, tsking a little at his glare. “It would be a lot easier on you if you just told the truth.”

“I don’t know where they are,” Isaac groaned, trying to shift a little to provide some sort of relief for his aching body. If only he was able to get at least the tip of his toe on the floor, some of the pressure would dissipate.

“I’m supposed to believe that a Beta doesn’t know where his Alpha is?” the woman scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Word on the streets is you live with him. How cozy, curled up in a den together.”

“You heard wrong,” Isaac muttered, looking down at the floor. His Alpha wasn’t the type to get cozy with anyone. He’d kept his Betas around at first, when he was trying to build the pack and grow his strength, but that didn’t seem to be his goal anymore. Isaac knew Derek finding his presumed dead sister after all these years was a shock, but it didn’t have to change things that much. The loft was big enough for all of them, even if Isaac had to sleep on the floor in a corner.

“Then why did we find your stuff in his place?” she asked, laughing as his eyes widened in shock at her words. She’d gone to the loft? When had that happened? He was thankful that Derek had already disappeared before that confrontation could occur. He knew Derek was strong, but he had been a little off since the discovery of Erica’s dead body. It would’ve been too easy for him to make a mistake that could cost him his life.

And yeah, Isaac still had some stuff at the loft. Derek hadn’t given him much notice before he threw him out, only able to grab the already packed bag he took to school. Isaac didn’t have many things, but he did have a bit more than what could be carried in one duffle bag. He just hadn’t had the courage to go back and ask for the rest of his stuff yet. And now that Derek had disappeared, it wasn’t like he was going to break in and take it.

“He kicked me out,” Isaac chuckled, not bothering to lie about that fact. What did it matter? So what if Stiles was looking at him with a confused stare? It didn’t matter anymore who knew. Poor, sad Isaac, mistreated by every authority figure he had. He’d been pissed when he found out Derek took Scott to his house after he’d been turned. It was one thing for people to hear about the abuse, but it was another to have someone see the evidence of it. And then hearing later that Scott had Allison lock him inside during the full moon made him want to throw up. He understood that desperate times called for desperate measures, but that was taking it a bit to the extreme.

“He kicked you out?” the woman asked, bursting out in laughter. Isaac closed his eyes, feeling his cheeks burn in embarrassment. His rejection was just so hilarious. “Gosh, that must’ve hurt, huh? The person who made you, tossing you to the side? Do you know how tight the bond is between Alpha and Beta? The need to be together and cohesive is like a living, breathing thing. Being so separated from his Beta has got to be hurting Derek so deeply, but he still chose that pain over keeping you around.”

Isaac knew she was lying, just trying to break him down, but it was working. He couldn’t stop the tear from running down his cheek. After all those “stronger together” pep talks and lectures, Derek didn’t care if he sent Isaac off to be alone. He didn’t care if Isaac was weak and vulnerable without his care and direction. That Isaac was still a kid and had been lacking protection for so long that giving him a taste and then snatching it away was crueler than he could imagine.

“Shut up!” Stiles shouted, but the woman was on a roll.

“You’d never do that if you were the Alpha. I can tell you care so much. You’d protect your Betas no matter what,” she said, reaching up to cradle his cheek in her delicate hand. He couldn’t help himself from leaning into her touch. “If you help me find Derek, I’ll let you kill him. You can take his spot and be a better Alpha than he ever was. We’ll take off and forget we ever met.” Isaac moaned, opening and closing his mouth as if he was searching for the right words. The woman leaned in eagerly, waiting to see if her new angle worked.

“Go fuck yourself,” Isaac growled, expecting the fist that slammed into his other side. It didn’t take long for him to realize something was really wrong this time, with the way his mouth was filling up with blood. He choked on it as the woman dug her fingers into his chin, a look of disgust on her face.

“You’re still willing to die for a man who treats you worse than trash? Because that’s what’s gonna happen here. You’re going to die, along with your little pal over there. And do you think Derek will care? Do you think this meaningless sacrifice will even ping on his radar? It won’t. And when we end up finding him and killing him, which we will, all this that you’ve gone through will be for nothing!” she screeched, slapping him hard across the face. The blood that was pooling in his cheeks flew out, barely missing her shoes. Isaac spat, trying to clear his throat so he could breathe properly.

This was the end, wasn’t it? While he may be able to heal from this injury with his werewolf abilities, his temporary human state would not be able to hold out for much longer. The only chance he had was to get the cuffs off his ankles, but they were too tight to get off without the use of his hands.

“Oh my God, oh my God!” Stiles panted, watching him drown in his own blood. Isaac was going to die and leave him to the mercy of hunters. Stiles wouldn’t stand a chance. He’d never give anyone up.

“Aww, you broke him!” the woman moaned, sidestepping the steadily expanding puddle of blood Isaac was leaving on the floor. “Now we have no choice but to switch.” No, Isaac couldn’t let this happen. Not as long as his heart was still beating. Stiles was too important to everyone. Isaac renewed his struggles to get free, ignoring how it stole his breath and made everything hurt worse than before. He felt the cuffs sliding further up his ruined wrists and the beginning stages of an idea started to form in his head. A terrible idea that probably wouldn’t work, but they had nothing to lose.

“Not broken yet,” Isaac wheezed, painfully lifting his broken middle finger to flip her off. It got the desired reaction, turning her focus back onto him.

“Oh, you dumb little puppy,” the woman said, signalling to the man with a raised brow. He grabbed Isaac’s already ruined hand, crushing the rest of the bones in his giant paw.

Isaac screamed.

He screamed louder and longer than he thought possible as the man kneaded his fingers into the delicate flesh of his destroyed hand. When he finally let go Isaac sagged in exhaustion, feeling his body tremble in shock. Every shaky exhale let out a mist of blood.

“Stiles, m’srry,” Isaac gasped, unable to look at the other boy. This was his last hurrah. “Tell you, wanna know.”

“Isaac, no,” Stiles pleaded, tears audible in his voice. Isaac wasn’t sure if he meant don’t say anything or don’t give up. Or don’t die.

“Shut up!” the woman snapped, cradling Isaac’s face again. “It’ll be better after, you’ll see.”

“Give couple m-minutes, say g’bye,” Isaac wheezed, digging deep for the ability to force out the stuttered words.

“Sure, anything for my good boy,” the woman agreed, giving him one last pat before she made her way out the door with her stooge. Isaac sighed when he heard the click of the door closing behind them, leaving him alone in the room with Stiles again. 

This was it.


	5. Chapter 5

“You can’t give up, please!” Stiles begged, his words forced out between hiccuping sobs. Isaac ignored him, closing his eyes and focusing on his task. When he felt the handcuffs sliding further up his hand earlier, he got an idea. If he could just slip one hand through, he might be able to get free. He’d surreptitiously started to twist his hand, trying to ease the cuffs up further. His plan was ruined when the cuff was caught on his wide palm. Luckily, his last act of defiance had given him his desired outcome. It had hurt worse than he imagined, but it had been worth it in the end, because his hand was slowly and surely slipping through the cuff, the broken bones easier to manipulate.

Isaac moaned softly, feeling the skin of his hand peeling off as he pulled. Stiles must’ve finally noticed what he was doing, because his pleas abruptly stopped. Just a little bit further and his hand would be free. It slid out before he realized, his body swinging as all the weight shifted to one side, causing his shoulder to immediately pop out of the socket. Isaac bit back his scream, not wanting to alert the people outside that he was doing anything.

Stiles started whispering encouraging words, cheering him on and pressing him to hurry up. He needed to get the cuffs off his ankles so he could shift and start healing. Isaac painstakingly lifted one leg, bending it at the knee so he could reach his ankle. He hadn’t seen how the cuffs were attached, but he needed it to be something he could manipulate with his shattered hand.

Isaac actually started crying when he saw it was a simple strap. They weren’t anywhere near out of the woods yet, but at least something had gone right. They had been due for a win and maybe their luck would hold steady. He hooked his finger along the edge, using his arm to pull it along in the right direction. It slid open, freeing his first ankle. Isaac repeated the process on the other side, the idea of freedom pushing him forward.

When the last strap fell, Stiles sobbed and laughed. A low growl built in Isaac’s throat, his power building steadily inside of himself. It was time for the wolf to take control. He felt the pulse of it surge through his body, yanking his arm down to snap the handcuff off the rail. Isaac landed softly on the balls of his feet, ducking into a crouch. He could feel different parts of his body starting to heal, but he wouldn’t be back to 100% for a while. He’d just have to take what he could get for the time being.

Isaac crawled over to Stiles, using his newly extended claws to slice through the boy’s bindings. Stiles shot up out of the chair as soon as he was free, pulling Isaac into an impromptu hug. Isaac grunted in pain and couldn’t really return the hug yet with his healing arms, but he rested his forehead on the other boy’s shoulder, taking in the first bit of real comfort he’d received in a while.

“We’ve gotta come up with a plan of attack,” Isaac murmured into Stiles’ neck, needing him to come up with something to get them out of here.

“I’ve got an idea, but I don’t know if it will work,” Stiles said into his sweat soaked hair. Isaac nodded, ready to accept any direction at this point. Stiles was always coming up with schemes that seemed crazy, but ended up working. He just had to hope this time would be the same.

The plan was very basic, would only take care of part of the problem, and relied mostly on luck. It was a long shot, but it was all they had. Isaac stood a bit away from the door, straining to hear for any signs of their captors coming back. Stiles was over by the source of the electricity, ready to flip the switch when the time was right. 

Isaac could feel the different parts of his body trying to heal, but it was a slow process. He still wasn’t able to turn all the way, but even the partial turn had kickstarted some of the mending. He gave his body as much help as he could along the way, forcing Stiles to pop his shoulder back in the socket and help roll back the peeled skin of his hand. Stiles did what he could before he turned and threw up in the corner. Isaac couldn’t blame him. But now his dislocated shoulder barely twinged and all of his bleeding had stopped, most importantly the internal. His ribs were still a little shifty, but that was better than a lung full of blood.

He heard the quiet clicking of a heel and signalled to Stiles. This was the moment of truth. If this went wrong, he had no doubt they would just outright kill him to get him out of the way and then start on Stiles instead. He couldn’t let that happen. Isaac gripped the cuffs in his hands as best he could and crouched in preparation. 

The door slowly opened and Isaac tossed over the cuffs. Reflexes were a powerful thing and the giant man who stepped into the room instinctively caught the objects flying at him, Stiles cranking up the voltage as soon as he had a firm grip. The man went down, the jolts locking his muscles and sending him into convulsions. The woman stepped in behind him, screeching when she saw the turn of events. She kicked at the wires, sliding the cuffs away, but not before her partner lost consciousness. She reached to the small of her back, but Isaac didn’t wait to see what she was grabbing, running forward and knocking them both to the ground. The gun she had grabbed was knocked from her grasp, skittering across the floor and out of their reach. Isaac landed hard on his ribs, the air momentarily punched out of his lungs. He writhed around on the floor a bit, trying to get a hold on the woman to subdue her, but she was fresher and well trained, rolling away from him and springing to her feet before he could do anything. She stomped on his already broken hand and he howled in pain.

“No you don’t!” Stiles yelled, charging at the woman. She easily sidestepped him, using his momentum to push him into a wall. Someone really needed to teach Stiles not to telegraph his moves like that, if they made it out of here. Isaac took advantage of the distraction, kicking at the woman’s knee. It didn’t connect as solidly as he would’ve liked, but it still knocked her off balance. 

Isaac rolled to his feet, trying to calculate his odds if he made a break for the gun on the other side of the room. His choice was made for him when the woman pulled out her taser from earlier, spinning it in her hand like a baton. They slowly circled each other, waiting to see who would make the first move. The damn thing was so long, it wouldn’t take much for her to lunge and catch a piece of his body. Isaac willed Stiles to get up from where he was sitting in a daze against the wall. He didn’t think he could do this alone.

“I’m not sure how you did it, but I’m impressed,” the woman said, giving her weapon another lazy twirl. “Maybe I was right earlier, about you having the potential to be a good Alpha. I wouldn’t normally do this, but my offer still stands. Help me find Derek and I’ll let you kill him. You can’t think you’re gonna win this fight.” Isaac ignored her words, his eyes never leaving her movements. She was trying to distract him, but it wasn’t going to work. He’d come too far to fall for something that stupid. 

“I think I’ll pass,” Isaac growled, dodging the sudden thrust of her arm, retaliating with a swipe of his own. He caught her on the elbow, his claws easily slicing through the flesh. She dropped the weapon with nerveless fingers, screaming in rage, before kicking Isaac right in his stab wound. He staggered back, but kept his feet under him. Going down right now could spell their doom.

She was furious now, but it made her sloppy. Now that her hands were empty, she focused on striking, only connecting every few attempts as Isaac tried his best to block her. Isaac really needed Stiles’ help right now, because all of this exertion was inhibiting his body’s healing. Isaac was not a good fighter. It was one thing to have the strength and agility of a werewolf, but it was not the same as being skilled in hand to hand combat. He thought back to his brief run in with Allison, where he threw some sluggish swings, only for her to dodge him easily and stab him a billion times. That had taken him out of the fight completely and he couldn’t let that happen again. Not with Stiles as his only backup.

Speaking of Stiles, he was finally pulling himself to his feet. He wanted to yell to him to run away or grab a weapon, anything that could possibly turn the tide in this fight. He wasn’t expecting him to take a running leap at the woman’s back, knocking her off her feet and right into Isaac. They ended up in a pile of limbs, the woman striking out at anything she could touch and Isaac trying to keep her from doing damage to either of them.

The slight glint from bright lights above them was his only warning before a blade was coming down toward him, Isaac rolling out of the way at the last moment before it slid into his neck. He kicked her in the chest, sending her back only a few feet, but still enough room for Isaac to stand and pull Stiles up behind him. They were back to their dance now, but it was two against one this time. Maybe Stiles only counted as half. And maybe the knife gave her a slight advantage. But this was their current situation and it could be worse.

Isaac wasn’t sure why the universe was against him, because almost as soon as he had that thought, things did get a lot worse. All of the circling had put them with their backs to the downed giant. Except he wasn’t as incapacitated as Isaac hoped. Stiles was suddenly flying to the side, rolling to a stop against the chair he’d been trapped in earlier. Isaac spun, only to be gripped by the throat and held above the floor. This guy couldn’t be human.

Isaac swiped at the hand holding him, barely doing any damage with his panicked, weakened movements. The man was squeezing his windpipe and Isaac knew at this point he was just having fun with him. He’d felt how strong the man’s grip was earlier. If he wanted him to be, Isaac would already be dead. Isaac needed to do something before the man decided he was done playing with his food. He lifted his knee, connecting solidly with the man’s nose. Isaac wasn’t sure if he did more damage to himself or the man, but it had the effect he wanted. The behemoth dropped him, Isaac just barely landing on his feet and ducking a wild swipe from his bear claw hand. Stiles was being stalked by the woman, doing his best to keep the chair between them, but Isaac had to hope he could stay alive on his own right now. The giant needed his full attention.

Faster than he should’ve been able for someone his size, the man charged at Isaac, slamming into his middle and flinging him into the wall. He was sure he heard something snap, but he couldn’t tell what. Every inch of his body hurt. The man grabbed him by the arm, pulling him over his shoulder before unceremoniously dropping him back on the floor. Isaac landed on his chest, the air rushing out of him. The man pulled him up by the hair, holding Isaac against his body in a choke hold. 

This was it. There was nothing Isaac could do to stop the man from snapping his neck. His vision was spotty, but he tried to seek out Stiles one last time to say he was sorry. Sorry he wasn’t strong enough. Sorry he couldn’t save them.

“Wait!” the woman yelled, pausing the man from giving Isaac a killing blow. The giant let up on his hold a bit and Isaac sucked in a few desperate breaths. He dragged him over to the center of the room, where the woman was standing a few feet in front of a kneeling Stiles, her reclaimed gun pointed at his head. Stiles had his hands raised and was shaking a bit, but only anger showed on his face.

“No!” Isaac gasped, struggling to get free of the strong man. They’d come too far and gone through too much to go down like this. Isaac was so close to Stiles, he could almost reach out and touch him. He couldn’t let this happen.

“Oh yes. I want you to watch your little friend die. And I want you to know it’s your fault. If you hadn’t gotten him caught up in your little disease, he would’ve lived a long, happy life. Your kind are nothing but a curse on this world and I won’t rest until you’re all eradicated!” the woman hissed, turning her attention back to Stiles.

Time slowed down after that, everything seemingly moving in slow motion as Isaac watched the woman prepare to murder Stiles in cold blood. All thoughts of repercussions from causing a death didn’t seem important anymore. He would wear his blue eyes with pride, knowing that he wasn’t cursed with them, but that he earned them. Isaac felt a surge of wolf energy flow through him, extending his claws and jamming them into the man behind him. They sank painfully into his groin, the man’s arms automatically going limp in shock and pain. Isaac grabbed one of the arms that was resting over his shoulder, swinging the man around him and throwing him toward the woman.

Isaac could be forgiven for his aim being off. He’d been shocked, stabbed, broken, choked, and thrown. It wasn’t surprising that while he’d meant to throw the man into the woman, stopping her from taking her shot, he’d missed. Isaac heard the shot still go off, the sound of the bullet hitting flesh, and the grunt of pain. Everyone else in the room was frozen, just watching the body fall. 

Would this give him those blue eyes?


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles scrambled over to Isaac as quickly as possible, trying to put as much distance between himself and the now dead giant who had toppled in front of him. Isaac was still, powerless to do anything but stare at the man he’d just pushed in front of a bullet. He was terrible at math and knew he’d never figure out the probability of how this happened. Just thinking about the timing and the angles and luck made his head spin. Although the lack of oxygen might’ve had something to do with that too.

“Come on!” Stiles urged quietly under his breath, grabbing Isaac under his armpits to try to pull him up. “Freak out later.” The desperation in Stiles’ voice snapped Isaac out of his trance and he let the boy pull him up with surprising strength. The woman was distracted, hovering over her deceased partner in crime, and this might be their only chance to escape.

Isaac shoved Stiles behind him as they inched their way toward the door. The woman was just a few feet away from it, but hopefully she’d be so caught up in her grief that they could sneak past her. The rest of the pack could worry about hunting her down and finding her. Isaac and Stiles were done. They crept carefully, Isaac holding his breath in caution. They were so close. So, so close.

Not close enough.

The woman wailed like a dying animal, jumping in front of the door to block their escape. The gun in her hand was shaky, but Isaac had no doubts she’d be able to hit her target from this close range. Isaac tucked Stiles carefully behind his back, his larger body easily covering the boy. This was their last stand and they’d come too close to give up now.

A few things happened at once. Isaac stepped forward, preparing to use his body as a battering ram. The woman brought up her gun level to his chest, ready to send out a killshot. And Stiles… well Stiles sent out a God awful shriek that would put Lydia to shame. It startled the woman so badly that she stepped back, not paying attention to where she was going.

Isaac saw on a TV show once where a man wore a pair of rubber soled shoes to keep from being electrocuted. He thought it was cool on the show, but never really thought more about conduction. But it stood to reason that if the man had to wear special shoes, it meant normal shoes probably would result in a jolt. The woman across from him happened to be wearing a pair of high heels, with very delicate, thin bottoms. And when she stepped into one of those cuffs, one of those cuffs that hadn’t been turned off, she got the shock of her life. And maybe even death.

The woman jerked when the volts hit her, every muscle in her body tightening. Including the one around the trigger of her gun. It discharged in her hand, but Isaac was so transfixed that he barely even noticed. After what felt like forever, but was only a few seconds, she lost her balance and fell awkwardly to her side. Her eyes were open, but Isaac knew. She was gone.

The relief hit him hard in the chest. This was really over. They made it. Isaac never thought surviving could feel so painful, but it was like his heart was aching. And his breath was getting harder to come by. And why was he so tired? Was this an adrenaline crash?

Stiles peeked out from behind him, needing to see for himself if this was finally over. He cautiously walked over to the two bodies, checking to see if their assumptions were true. If they could finally go home.

“I can’t believe we did it,” Stiles whispered, whooping in joy when the words sunk in. Stiles turned to face him when his eyes turned from joyful to horror filled. “Isaac!” Isaac followed Stiles’ eyes to where they were staring at his chest. He’d been right earlier when he was sure the woman couldn’t miss a shot from such a short distance. Isaac felt his legs wobble and he fell to his knees. Stiles slid over, catching him before he could fall further.

“No, no, no,” Stiles whispered, cradling his face.

“We did it,” Isaac gasped, choking on his blood. “You made it.”

“You have to make it too,” Stiles whimpered, his hand fluttering in front of Isaac’s chest, but hesitating to touch it. “Just turn, just turn.”

“Wolfsbane,” Isaac coughed, leaning over to spit out a gob of black blood. “Go get help and come back for me.”

“Screw you! You didn’t leave me behind, I’m not leaving you!” Stiles shouted. “You’re gonna let them win? After everything you went through, you’re just gonna curl up and die?”

“Can’t move,” Isaac slurred, feeling his eyelids getting heavier. It was the truth. His legs had gone numb for some reason and Isaac didn’t want to think too hard to figure out why. Could werewolves become paralysed?

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to move you,” Stiles determined, dragging him over and sitting him up against the wall. Stiles carefully stepped over to the machine, turning off the electricity. He kicked the cuff away from the woman’s foot and grabbed her gun, shoving it into the back of his pants after he flicked the safety back on.

“Who’re you shooting?” Isaac asked, staring blearily up at Stiles as he made his way back over to him.

“No one. Well, Derek maybe, the next time I see him. After I find out why he kicked a kid out onto the streets,” Stiles muttered, crouching down to throw one of Isaac’s arms over his shoulders. The dislocated one, thankfully, although this still was gonna be excruciating. “On three, okay?” Isaac braced himself for the pain, knowing he had to stay conscious if he stood any chance of getting out of here.

Isaac cried out as he was lifted to his feet, the strain on his body overwhelming. If he thought he hurt before, it was nothing compared to now, with the added gunshot and poison. Stiles was murmuring hushed apologies as he drug his much larger body toward salvation. Isaac tried to get his legs to assist in the painful escape, but his feet were mostly dragging.

“You’re heavier than you look, Lahey,” Stiles grumbled, already panting. They hadn’t made it far and Isaac had no idea where they were. He assumed they were still in the warehouse from earlier, but he couldn’t be sure since he had passed out. And he had no idea if Stiles’ jeep was still out there.

“Sorry,” Isaac gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks as his body tried to shake itself apart. Was his life even worth all this pain? What was he even gonna go back to? He was trading in one abandoned warehouse for another. Going back to a pack he never really fit in. To an Alpha who didn’t want him.

“Almost there,” Stiles soothed, maneuvering them around a corner. They were back in the main part of the warehouse, where all this started. They were so close, he could do this. 

“Keep talking,” Isaac moaned, feeling his head dropping to his chest of its own volition. And weren’t those words he’d never thought he’d say. 

“Okay, okay um, I guess this is a good time for me to apologize about being a dick to you all day,” Stiles said.

“S’okay,” Isaac mumbled. “I get it.”

“It’s not okay. It’s just a really hard anniversary of something with my mom and Scott usually does something with me, but this year he can’t and I just took it out on you,” Stiles muttered.

“Get it,” Isaac moaned, pressing his lips together after a sharp pain shot through his chest. “Got one of those too.”

“Not a fun club to be in, that’s for sure. How did yours, uh… how did she?” Stiles asked, sounding nervous he’d stepped over a line. Isaac didn’t really talk about his past, but then no one really asked either.

“Suicide,” Isaac mumbled, sniffling a little. “People have been leaving me for a while now.”

“God, we should’ve told that woman where Derek was, cause now I’m gonna have to kill him myself,” Stiles hissed. Isaac couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that. No one ever really cared about him enough to get angry on his behalf. Except maybe Scott, but he seemed like his natural state was to care about everyone.

They were finally at the door and so close to freedom. Isaac was freezing cold and pouring sweat. He’d never felt so awful in his life and he wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea of continuously topping his previous worst moments. There had to be some sort of unbeatable peak, right?

Stiles aggressively elbowed the door, almost sending them both sprawling to the ground outside. It was fully dark now, but Isaac had no idea what time it was. All he cared about was getting to the jeep that Stiles had parked down the block. If it wasn’t there, this would be the end of the line for Isaac.

“Almost, almost, almost,” Stiles chanted, urging him on. Isaac was completely at the end of his rope, but he kept going anyway. Stiles was right. They’d made it too far to let those psychos win. Isaac choked back a sob when he finally saw the jeep. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen at the moment and he’d never disparage it again. He’d grumbled under his breath about it before when he’d been forced to ride in the cramped backseat, but now he didn’t care if he’d be strapped to the roof like luggage, as long as it got him out of here.

“I gotta set you somewhere so I can get my spare key,” Stiles mumbled, glancing around the area surrounding the jeep. There wasn’t really anywhere to sit and Isaac going back on the ground seemed like a bad idea. “If I prop you on the car, can you hold yourself up for a minute?” 

“Yeah,” Isaac wheezed, letting himself be draped over the hood. He gripped the side mirror like a life preserver, knowing a fall would hurt a lot more than the energy it was taking him to stay standing. He spat out another splatter of black, cringing at the mess he was making on the car. Isaac could almost hear his father’s voice screaming at him for making everything filthy. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Stiles asked, popping back up behind him. Isaac hadn’t even noticed him opening up the car doors.

“I’ll clean up, swear,” Isaac slurred, feeling Stiles drag him by the armpits to the passenger seat.

“Remind me later to ask you where your father’s buried, so I can spit on his grave,” Stiles growled, folding him as carefully as he could into the seat. Stiles was once again proving he was stronger than he looked, sitting Isaac up in a mostly normal position with basically no assistance. Isaac just couldn’t get his limbs to act as they should.

His chest hurt so bad and that was all he could think of. He figured after he’d been turned into a werewolf that he’d eventually die bloody, but this was too soon. He hadn’t even gotten good at it yet. Isaac probably already would be dead if he had gone with Erica and Boyd liked he’d thought about doing all those months ago. Had that choice only given him a brief reprieve from joining the rest of his family in the ground? Was he always meant to die like this?

Stiles rushed around the car as soon as he got Isaac settled, jamming the key into the ignition and slamming them into reverse. Isaac couldn’t stop his body from tipping forward, only Stiles’ outstretched arm keeping him from smashing into the dashboard. Isaac cried out from the pain of Stiles’ arm touching his bullet wound and his vision greyed out for a few seconds. When he came back to himself he was leaning against Stiles’ shoulder, dripping black from his lax mouth all over the boy’s shirt.

“Come on buddy, stay with me,” Stiles mumbled, racing down the roads faster than this jeep had any right to be able to.

“M’here,” Isaac gasped, trying to keep himself from bouncing as Stiles took a tight turn.

“Oh thank fuck, I thought I killed you,” Stiles whispered, taking one hand off the steering wheel to awkwardly pat Isaac’s head. “We’re almost to Deaton’s and I know he’s gonna be there, okay. Just a few more minutes.” Stiles kept chanting those reassuring words like a mantra. Like as long as he said it, it would happen. Isaac hoped Stiles had that power in him.

Stiles pulled as close to the vet’s office as humanly possible, jamming his fist into the horn and screaming out for Deaton. The frazzled looking vet burst out the door a few seconds later, a thick book held over his head like a weapon. Isaac might’ve laughed at the sight, if he wasn’t busy trying to cough his lungs out. Deaton tossed his book to the side, rushing up to the jeep once he saw there was no one under attack.

“What happened?” Deaton demanded, throwing open the passenger side door.

“Wolfsbane bullet to the chest, among other things,” Stiles said, carefully scooting the both of them toward the waiting doctor.

“Nice to see you again so soon Isaac, although I wish it were under better circumstances,” Deaton said calmly, propping him up against his body so Stiles could exit the car on his side. Isaac responded by promptly throwing up on his white coat. He whimpered, imagining his father’s reaction to something like that. His dad would’ve dropped him immediately and stuck his nose in the mess like a dog. But Deaton didn’t seem to mind the mess, just looked at his face in concern.

“Derek did the same when Kate shot him, just not this much,” Stiles winced, plucking at his own black covered clothes.

“We need to hurry. The bullet is dangerously close to his heart and we need to get it out and healed before it’s too late,” Deaton said, gripping Isaac under his armpits. “Now Isaac, I’m afraid this is going to hurt, but time is of the essence.” That was all the warning Isaac got before Deaton started pulling him out of the car, putting an ungodly amount of strain on his shoulders. Isaac yelped, lacking the energy to put up too much of a fight. Stiles grabbed his legs as soon as they were free from the car, helping Deaton carry him into the building.

Isaac was shaking violently by the time they laid him out on the exam table, his legs dangling off the end. Stiles gave the gun over to Deaton who was doing something with it that Isaac couldn’t see. The table was so cold and he was flashing back to the ice bath he’d been subjected to not so long ago. This whole place reminded him of pain, the memory of relieving the dog’s slowly being replaced by echoes of his own. He felt weak and selfish for wishing someone was here to take his.

“Okay Isaac, before I can get rid of the poison in your blood, I’m going to need to remove the bullet,” Deaton said slowly, approaching the table with a long pair of tweezers and scalpel.

“What, why?” Stiles shouted, stepping protectively in front of him.

“As long as the bullet is inside his body, it will keep leeching poison into his blood. Putting in the wolfsbane ash won’t be enough. And healing around a bullet is never a good idea,” Deaton explained, a look of guilt on his face. Isaac knew the man didn’t want to do this, but it was either that or die. “I’m going to need you to hold him down.”

Isaac whimpered at those words, flashing back to all the times he was locked up against his will. He didn’t like being held down, especially while he was this vulnerable. But he was powerless to do anything to stop it. 

“Okay, okay,” Stiles mumbled, rubbing an uncharacteristically nervous hand over his mouth. He moved over to the head of the table, crouching down to bring his face close to Isaac’s. “You can do this, okay? After what I saw you do today, this is cake.” Isaac blindly reached back with his unbroken hand, an unsaid plea clear in his actions. He couldn’t do this alone. Stiles grabbed it immediately, ducking down to cradle Isaac around his neck. He never let anyone get this close, but he needed it.

Deaton started cutting without warning, opening up the wound to slide in the tweezers. Isaac wailed, kicking his feet to try to find purchase. He needed to get away. Oh God, this was too much. Why were they doing this to him? He just wanted to be safe and warm. This pain was too much.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. It’s almost over, you’re okay,” Stiles murmured in his ear, pressing their foreheads together. Isaac felt himself bite through his lip, trying as hard as possible to stifle his screams. He couldn’t even tell what was happening to him anymore, he just felt fire.

“I’ve almost got it, Isaac. You’re doing so well,” Deaton said, but his voice sounded miles away. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Please dad, no more. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Isaac cried, choking on a mouthful of liquid. What had he done this time to deserve this? He always tried so hard, but it was never good enough. He couldn’t-he can’t-stop it, stop it, please.

“It’s Stiles, it’s just me and you here, okay? Just a few more seconds. Your dad wishes he could’ve been half the man you are. You’re stronger than he ever was and more than you know,” Stiles babbled, pulling Isaac from his memories. It was Stiles, not his dad. His dad was gone for good. “I’m the smart one, remember? So whatever I say has got to be true. We just gotta get through this last little bit, then we can go back to being bitchy toward each other. But first we gotta plan a little payback against Derek for all of this, right? He’s always getting everyone into trouble.”

“Got it!” Deaton called triumphantly, holding up the tiny piece of metal. Isaac sighed, his eyes rolling around in his skull a bit. Was it finally over? “This next part might sting a bit.”

The second the ash touched his wound, Isaac screamed. He bucked Stiles off of him, all of his hard fought control completely gone. Isaac couldn’t stay still through this pain. He felt himself rolling off the table, landing on his side with a thud. That probably should’ve hurt, but he felt nothing but the stinging burn shooting through his veins. Isaac couldn’t even cry anymore. This pain went past the point of something you cried over and tumbled into a place where your mouth just hung open in a constant shout. He distantly heard Stiles freaking out, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from the agony. When would it stop? It needed to stop.

And then it did. Not all of the pain, but the fire was gone. Isaac sacrificed a bit of his energy to tilt his head up, trying to get a look at his chest. The black veins slithering out from the center were gone, leaving behind bright red blood and a slowly closing hole. He let his head drop back to the floor, breathing in the first easy breaths he could remember in a while. He still hurt, but this was nothing.

“Isaac?” Stiles asked hesitantly, crouching down to creep carefully over to his side. “Are you okay?”

“We did it,” Isaac breathed, letting a quick smile flit across his face. “It’s over.” Stiles sighed, flopping over him and pressing their foreheads together. Isaac found he didn’t quite mind the touching like he thought he would. It wasn’t too long ago that he thought the last bit of human contact he’d get would be painful, so maybe this wasn’t so bad.

“Are you healing?” Stiles asked, leaning back up to look over his body.

“I don’t know,” Isaac laughed, lifting up his shattered hand. He couldn’t tell anything that was going on with his body at this point. And all he wanted to do was pass out. “Just break something.”

“What!” Stiles squeaked, looking like he’d just asked him to run around town naked.

“Trigger the healing. That’s what Derek does,” Isaac mumbled, closing his eyes.

“No!” Stiles yelled, startling them right back open. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I may have a suggestion,” Deaton piped in, stepping forward from where he’d been watching from a safe distance. “While pain is a powerful tool to use when in a pinch, you don’t always have to resort to such barbaric means.”

“So what do we do?” Stiles asked, running his fingers through Isaac’s hair. Isaac leaned into it, still aching for all the comfort he could get. Before the trauma they experienced wasn’t so fresh and they went back to their normal roles. Stiles being everyone else’s buddy and Isaac on the sidelines providing pessimistic snark.

“Isaac, just try focusing on bringing out the wolf. It doesn’t have to be a full turn, just let the power of the wolf into the forefront and it will take care of the rest,” Deaton explained. Isaac nodded, careful not to dislodge Stiles’ hand. Maybe if he perfected this technique, he could avoid some pain in the future. Although he’d never tell Derek what not to do. He wasn’t going to look weak.

Isaac took as deep of a breath as he could muster, staring up into the steady brown eyes of Stiles. Stiles gave him an encouraging nod and shaky smile, never pausing his gentle ministrations. Even if Stiles went back to hating him like normal, Isaac would always respect and care about the other boy for all he’d done.

He felt the power starting to build deep in his belly, the comforting surge spreading like the poison had not too long ago. Stiles was mumbling supportive words and Isaac latched onto them like a lullaby. He closed his eyes, feeling the color shift.

“What color are they?” Isaac asked, opening them back up to show Stiles. Stiles gave him a small smile, sighing in relief.

“Gold.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Peeled the skin off his hand. It was so gnarly. I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw up.”

“You did all three,” Isaac mumbled, opening his eyes to figure out where he was. He was in a bedroom he didn’t recognize, surrounded by most of the pack. And it was daytime, which was a little unsettling. How long had he been out?

“Dude, you’re awake!” Stiles exclaimed, bouncing onto the bed next to him. Isaac braced for the pain he was expecting, but none came. The wolf must’ve done a good job. “How do you feel?”

“Alright, I guess. What happened?” Isaac asked.

“After you did your mini shift thing, you basically spaced out while you started to heal. I don’t blame you. I think I heard your bones snapping back into place. Not something either of us need to experience again. Then you kind of just passed out, but Deaton said you were okay. I made a few phone calls, then he helped me bring you here,” Stiles explained.

“And where’s here?” Isaac wondered. It definitely wasn’t Derek’s loft and he didn’t think being at Stiles’ house was a good idea, with his father still in the dark about all things supernatural.

“You’re at my house,” Scott said, sliding up from where he’d been standing off to the side.

“When did you get back?” Isaac asked, not having remembered that Scott was supposed to be out of town.

“Stiles called me from Deaton’s last night. After me and my mom heard what happened, she finished up early with the cousins and we came back,” Scott answered, sitting down on his other side.

“Why? I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have had to do that. Not for me,” Isaac scoffed, thoroughly confused. No one had ever rushed to be by his side. Isaac’s appendix burst a few years ago because his father refused to get off work early to take him to the doctor. But Scott and his mom had driven miles for him, even after the danger was over?

“Of course I did. You’re my friend,” Scott laughed, pushing at his shoulder a little. He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like everyone had people who would do stuff like that for them. How did Isaac become one of those people?

“You’re really gonna push on the shoulder of the guy with two injured shoulders?” Stiles questioned, chuckling at the immediate look of horror that flashed over Scott’s face.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot!” Scott cried, raising his hands in surrender.

“It’s fine. I’m fine, see,” Isaac said, raising his formerly broken hand and wiggling his fingers. Stiles snatched it out of the air, turning it over to inspect it. 

“Glad to see this thing looking back to normal,” Stiles said, rubbing at his wrists. Isaac didn’t even have the urge to pull it back. “Did I mention he peeled the skin off his hand?”

“Yes you did, and it’s called avulsion, or degloving, for obvious reasons,” Lydia said, looking at her own nails casually.

“It has a name?” Stiles yelled, bringing Isaac’s hand protectively to his chest.

“Everything has a name,” Lydia scoffed, going back to chatting quietly with Allison in the corner. Isaac wasn’t really sure why either of the girls would want to be here right now, but he wasn’t going to say anything. They probably just wanted to be wherever Scott and Stiles were.

“I should probably get going,” Isaac said, slowly easing his hand away from Stiles. “You guys probably have stuff to do today.”

“Where are you gonna go?” Scott asked, trying to sound casual. Scott always did have a terrible poker face. And Stiles just so happened to be looking away right now too.

“You told him?” Isaac hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t think it was fair for something he said while he was being tortured to be made public. It was no one else’s business.

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone after everything. And you shouldn’t have even been alone in the first place,” Stiles defended, refusing to look guilty.

“I can take care of myself,” Isaac insisted. If he could survive his father, he could survive on his own.

“You shouldn’t have to,” Scott said quietly, patting him on the knee.

“I don’t really have any other options,” Isaac mumbled, picking at the edge of the blanket. He really didn’t want to see the pity in their eyes. Poor orphan Isaac was homeless now too.

“Yeah, you do,” Scott persisted.

“Did you get a hold of Derek?” Isaac asked hopefully, peeking back up at Scott.

“I called him a bunch of times, but he never answered,” Stiles snorted, shaking his head in disgust.

“I meant me,” Scott said, setting his hand down much more carefully on his shoulder. “You can always come to me if you need help.”

“Why?” Isaac asked. Why would anyone want a random kid on their doorstep?

“Because you’re my friend and I want you to be okay,” Scott said seriously. “Friends help each other, remember? I know you didn’t want to go with Stiles yesterday, but you did it because I asked you to. And then the stuff you did to keep Stiles safe, the sacrifices you made? You don’t think you even deserve a place to stay?” Why did Scott have to sound so earnest?

“It’s just my issue to deal with, you know?” Isaac brushed off. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention. He could admit that it felt nice for people to care about him, but he didn’t want to start to depend on it just to have it taken away again. Isaac thought the Alpha/Beta relationship would be forever, and look where he was now.

“It doesn’t have to be, not anymore,” Scott insisted. “I was talking to my mom on the drive back and she said it would be okay if you wanted to stay here, with us. No one is using this room, so it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“What?” Isaac spluttered, shocked at the offer. No one wanted to be saddled with an extra teenager. Especially one as messed up as him.

“I don’t want to force you or anything, but my door is always open, for all of you,” Scott said, squeezing his shoulder before pushing at Stiles good naturedly. “You’re probably a better houseguest than this guy. He’s always breaking something.”

“It’s not always!” Stiles gasped, looking offended. “And your mom thinks it’s charming.”

“She just doesn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Scott laughed, leaning forward to mock whisper to him. “My mom puts away all the nice stuff when she knows Stiles is coming over.” Isaac couldn’t help but smile a little at that, even though his mind was swirling from the offer he’d gotten. How could Scott be so casual about opening his home to him? His own father groaned about being stuck taking care of him until he could legally kick him out, and now Scott and his mom were volunteering for the job? It just didn’t make sense.

“I don’t know,” Isaac mumbled, feeling his cheeks burn in embarrassment and maybe something else.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to decide now. But I do think it’s a good idea for you to at least stay the night. Stiles is insisting on having a comic book movie marathon tonight and I need backup in case he goes overboard,” Scott laughed.

“I used to read comic books,” Isaac said softly, remembering when his brother would bring him home copies sometimes after he’d go out with friends.

“Dude! You’ve been holding out on me!” Stiles exclaimed, turning to face him fully on the bed. “Which were your favorites?”

The conversation picked up from there, Stiles and him discussing different genres while Scott piped up every now and then. It was nice. He hadn’t really had many conversations with any of them that didn’t involve werewolf business or lacrosse. They actually had other things in common.

“What the hell is going on?”

Everyone’s heads snapped up to face the newcomer, varying looks of surprise on all their faces. Two werewolves in the room and they didn’t even hear anyone coming.

“What’re you doing here?” Scott asked, standing up to face the new guest.

“Stiles left like 20 voicemails on my phone last night, talking about how he and Isaac almost died,” Derek said, glancing over toward the bed. Isaac looked away before they could make eye contact. This was the first time he’d seen Derek since he’d been kicked out of the loft and it was harder than he thought it would be. He just kept seeing that glass flying toward his head and it made him feel sick.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here,” Stiles said, sliding off the bed to walk over toward Derek. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.” If Isaac had been expecting anything, it definitely wasn’t the punch to Derek’s jaw. Isaac and Scott sprang into action, rushing to keep the two of them apart. Scott pretty much tackled Derek into the wall and Isaac scooped up Stiles and dropped him on the other side of the bed. He grabbed Stiles again around his middle when the boy made to lunge again, keeping his hold on him just in case.

“What the hell?” Derek spat, angry instead of injured.

“Me what the hell? You what the hell! What the hell were you thinking kicking Isaac out of the loft with nowhere to go?” Stiles shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Derek.

“That’s pack business and so none of yours,” Derek grumbled, shrugging off Scott’s grip. Scott stayed ready though, in case anyone lost their temper.

“Who cares about your bullshit pack? It doesn’t change the fact that you turned away a teenage boy who you’re supposed to be taking care of without making sure he had a place to go!” Stiles snapped, vibrating in Isaac’s arms with anger.

“Isaac can take care of himself,” Derek scoffed, crossing his arms to exude his natural confidence. “I did at his age.”

“And look how great you turned out,” Stiles mocked. Isaac gave him a little squeeze around his middle, trying to warn him off stooping so low.

“He seems fine to me,” Derek said, waving over toward him.

“Yeah well, you weren’t there to see the dozen broken bones, gunshot wound to the chest, or wolfsbane poisoning,” Stiles muttered, looking away at the mention of their ordeal.

“What?” Derek gasped, the first bits of concern leaking through his cool demeanor. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t Stiles tell you in the voicemails he left?” Scott asked, looking between Derek and Stiles.

“He said they almost died, but I figured that was just his normal over exaggeration,” Derek defended, taking another step further into the room. “What happened?”

“Isaac almost died from getting tortured for information about you,” Stiles growled, making another move toward the older man.

“Are you okay Isaac?” Derek asked, glancing over the parts of him that were visible.

“Of course,” Isaac insisted, trying to put on some of that false bravado he’d attempted after the bite. Although it probably wasn’t working, with him in this weird hug from behind situation he was in with Stiles at the moment.

“He almost wasn’t. He almost died protecting you, me, and this whole pack! Would you have even cared?” Stiles yelled, making another wild move for Derek. Isaac just held him even tighter, letting Stiles’ loose limbs flail freely. Everyone in this room could probably kill Stiles, but he didn’t let that stop him. It was pretty admirable.

“Who was it? What happened Isaac?” Derek asked, ignoring Stiles. The boy was about to pipe up again, but Isaac silenced him with a little shake. He felt like he needed to tell this part.

“It was this pair of hunters. They wanted to know where you and Peter were to get revenge for something that happened with their friend Kate. When we didn’t answer, they took it out on me,” Isaac explained, noticing Derek’s eyes flicking over to Allison when the name Kate was mentioned. He really needed to get the whole story.

“Took it out on you how?” Derek questioned, his anger building back up.

“Doesn’t matter,” Isaac brushed off. He wasn’t planning on going through a play by play of every single thing they did, although he was pretty sure Stiles already had with everyone else. It was different with Derek. He didn’t want his Alpha looking down on him after hearing what he’d let be done to him.

“Where are they?” Derek growled, his claws sliding out.

“Dead,” Isaac whispered, glancing down at the floor. He could feel Derek rear back a little in surprise.

“Look at me,” Derek demanded softly, stepping up to the other side of the bed. Isaac knew what he meant, so he let his eyes shift briefly and flashed them up at his Alpha. Derek looked relieved when he saw they were still gold, as if he hadn’t previously sent him out on murder missions. “Stiles?”

“No, I didn’t kill them either, if that’s what you’re asking. They kind of killed themselves? With some assistance? It’s complicated,” Stiles babbled.

“Where are the bodies?” Derek asked, reverting back to his normal, cool demeanor.

“Deaton said he’d take care of it. That he knew some people,” Stiles said, patting his arm to let him know it was safe to let go. Isaac did, but still stayed close, in case tempers flared again. And because he just felt better having the support.

“Where’ve you been? Have you been back to the loft?” Scott asked, walking over to stand on the side of the bed with him and Stiles. Now everyone was on one side and Derek the other. Seemed a little symbolic, if Isaac took notice of such things.

“No, why?” Derek asked, twitching one of his strong eyebrows.

“One of them mentioned going by your loft to try to find you. She found some of my stuff and thought I lived there. Thought I’d know where you were to tell them,” Isaac answered quietly, rubbing at the back of his neck. This was the first time he’d really put together the fact that Derek’s choice to kick him out and disappear without a word could’ve killed him. It wasn’t like he’d ever give the man up to save himself, but he’d never even had the option.

“Yeah, so strange we were all under the same assumption that Isaac lived with you,” Stiles sneered, balling up his fists again. Isaac eyed him, ready to break up the fight that may be brewing. “After all the time you spent trying to get Scott to join your merry band of misfits, you just toss Isaac aside like he doesn’t matter? Like he isn’t a person?”

“Isaac is still in the pack. Him being in the loft just wasn’t working out,” Derek snapped, bristling at being lectured by someone he considered beneath him.

“Do you even know where he’s been staying? Do you care?” Stiles questioned.

“Guys, it’s fine,” Isaac interjected weakly. It was weird for people to be fighting about him, like he wasn’t even in the room. He didn’t need anyone to take care of him or fight his battles.

“And where’s Boyd? Don’t you remember what happens when you don’t keep tabs on people?” Stiles spat. That might’ve been a step too far, because Derek’s hand shot out at lightning speed, headed right for Stiles’ throat. No claws out, but Derek didn’t need them to do damage. Isaac grabbed Stiles’ arm at the last second, pulling the boy behind him protectively like he had so many times the day before in the warehouse. Isaac felt a little growl of warning rumble out of his throat before he could stop it, a clear signal to his Alpha. Derek seemed a little surprised, maybe the barest hint of pride flashing too, but Isaac was probably imagining it.

“I think maybe you should go,” Scott said, gently easing Derek toward the door in a way only he seemed to be able to do. “This conversation is going nowhere and none of us need more violence right now.” Derek huffed out a breath, shooting Stiles one last glare before he turned to leave the room. He paused before he turned the corner, looking back over his shoulder at him.

“I never meant to-” Derek started, pausing his words to come up with something better. “You can come back to the loft.” Isaac hated how he could feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach after hearing those words. Even the somewhat forced decision felt as good as a proud declaration shouted out from the rooftops. He hated how he still craved that paternal whatever he’d never really gotten. And he hated how he knew that if this offer had come just a day earlier he would’ve jumped at it, spilling reassurances from his lips about this time being better. But now, looking over at Scott who had an annoyingly understanding look on his face, he finally felt like he didn’t have to settle for the only option presented to him. He finally had a choice.

“I was thinking of staying with Scott actually. He and his mom offered me a room and I think it would be a good place for me right now,” Isaac said, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact with his Alpha. He could see Scott beaming at him from the corner of his eye and he felt Stiles pat his back in support. Derek stared at him for a few more moments, before giving him a little nod and breezing out of the room. Isaac let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, looking around to everyone in the room.

“Welcome home!” Scott grinned, squeezing his shoulder. Isaac smiled back, instead of crying like he felt the sudden urge to do. When had he ever heard those words before? And with real happiness instead of the threat of violence. Stiles darted out from behind him, flopping around on the bed like a dead fish.

“It’s a pretty comfortable bed. Guess I’ll have to bunk back up with Scott when I stay over,” Stiles moaned, spreading out his limbs like a starfish.

“Not sleeping like that. You’ll take the floor,” Scott laughed, toeing at one of Stiles’ outstretched legs. Stiles grabbed his foot with surprising speed, flipping Scott onto the bed and pinning him down in a wrestling move. Scott quickly got the upper hand and they continued rolling around in a casual wrestle.

“We’re gonna go,” Allison said, scooting Lydia along in front of her toward the door. She paused before she left, setting a gentle hand on Isaac’s forearm. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Isaac watched her walk out, wondering how so much had changed in just a day. Just last afternoon, he’d been sitting in a gutted train, dreading the upcoming sleepless night. Now he had his own bed in a house that he could see slowly morphing to feel like home. Isaac knew it wasn’t going to be perfectly smooth sailing, but he felt like he could trust Scott in a way he hadn’t with anyone in a long time. There were much worse places to end up.

“I think we should start with Spiderman with Tobey Maguire. Ease you into things a little bit,” Stiles suggested from his spot under Scott’s leg.

“We should probably go pick up Isaac’s stuff first. He’d probably be more comfortable in clothes that actually fit him,” Scott giggled, pointing at the inches of bare ankle protruding from the bottom of the too short lounge pants he just realized he was wearing.

“I can go grab it myself,” Isaac brushed off, smoothing down his also borrowed shirt. At least that was long enough.

“I got my jeep though. We can swing somewhere and get some food too. My treat,” Stiles offered.

“Yeah, where we headed?” Scott asked, grabbing his jacket as if them going was a done deal. They were all so stubborn that it pretty much was. Isaac sighed, knowing this was going to set Stiles off again.

“Abandoned train depot,” Isaac mumbled. True to form, Stiles sprang up from the bed, yelling out incoherent words about killing Derek. Isaac scooped him up, throwing him over his shoulder to stop him from running off and trying to make good on his promise.

“I could take him, right guys? I may be small, but I am mighty!” Stiles declared, half heartedly pounding on Isaac’s back. Isaac just shook his head fondly, carrying the boy out of the room and toward the front door. Scott followed along, laughing at Stiles and egging him on. For the first time in a while, Isaac felt good. He felt like he had after he’d gotten the bite, like a whole new world of possibilities was opened up to him. And it kind of was again, just less world domination and more normal happiness. But as he listened to Stiles and Scott laugh and have fun with each other, he figured this was better than anything he could’ve asked for.


End file.
